


Here Was Desert Bluffs

by patronsaintofdirtyfilthylovers



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Desert Bluffs, M/M, Possible Eternal Scouts spoilers, usual desert bluffs gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:19:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1715315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patronsaintofdirtyfilthylovers/pseuds/patronsaintofdirtyfilthylovers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Earl is taken away during the Eternal scout ceremony, he finds himself in a very strange place where he mets an oddly familiar young man.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Was Desert Bluffs

Earl fought valiantly against the creepy child clinging to his leg, silently dragging him backwards into the mouth of the cavernous burlap tent. He screamed. Screamed for someone, anyone, to save him but there was no one there. Anyone who might have helped had already been taken (to where he did not know nor he did not care to find out.) Everyone else, every other person in town, was hiding. In the windows of shops and restaurants or in their own homes. They watched with bored expressions and dulled eyes, far too accustomed to tragedy of this kind. Earl dug his fingers into the blood-soaked earth and kicked wildly against the child. The child did not notice. The child did not stop but keep pulling him stoically towards the tent. Earl dug in deeper, frantically trying to pull himself away with just the tips of his fingernails. Earl managed to clawed his way forward about 2 inches before the child reacted. Suddenly and violently, it yanked on Earl’s leg until there was a sickening pop, like his knee being dislocated. Earl shrieked in pain and his fingernails finally gave way in the soil. With his grip momentarily lost, the child saw its opportunity and pounced. It quickly swept Earl down the last few feet into the jaws of the tent. Just before he disappeared into the terrible blackness, presumably forever, Earl screamed. One last time, one last desperate plea. “Cecil!”

 

When Earl came to, he was in the desert, laying flat on his back, looking up the at the impossibly bright sky. He couldn’t remember where he was or how he had gotten there. His pants were torn, his fingers were bleeding and his knee was throbbing painfully. He sat up and looked around. He’d never been here before. Or maybe he had. He couldn’t remember anything at the moment and besides, the desert all looked the same to him anyway. Off in the distance Earl could see a town though. A clump of buildings, varying in size and structure, rising up from the blinding white sand of the desert. That looked familiar. Or did it? There was something odd about the city that he couldn’t quite place. Like he’d seen it before but maybe only in a dream? A little ways off from the buildings, there was a radio tower. The sight of it filled Earl instantly with a deep sadness he couldn’t explain. A red light blinked slowly and steadily from the top of the tower, like the beating of a heart. “Cecil..”

The name slipped from Earl’s lips before he had time to stop it. Cecil. The name felt familiar, comfortable in his mouth, like he’d said it a dozen times before but he still couldn’t picture a face to go with it. It was like a memory he had tried to forget but couldn’t. The lingering fragments of it still floating around like dust in his unconscious. Earl felt another pang of sadness tear through his chest. Whoever this Cecil person was, he must have been special.

Earl’s mind filled with countless questions but he pushed them aside. He had to get out of this desert and find medical care. He decided to head towards the radio station at the edge of town because it was the closest and also because it seemed the least hazy in his memory. He was curious to find out why the radio tower had sparked such a feeling in him and, who knows, maybe he’d see Cecil there.

Earl limped through the desert towards the radio station. He was about 10 feet from the entrance when a man emerged from the building. Earl stopped and watched him approach. He wasn’t tall or short nor thin or fat. His coffee brown hair was thick and groomed into a perfect quiff. He had eyes, of course. Two, solid black obsidian, were positioned on his sun tanned face where one would expect them to be and, oddly, a third one was set into his forehead but it appeared to have been gouged out and then stitched back up crudely with what seemed to be a thin twine. Trails of dried blood dripped from it, over the slight curves of his cheeks and down into his brilliant smile. If you could call that a smile. It was dark, like his eyes, and oozed with a raw malice. It was a truly wicked grin that, somehow, was not altogether unpleasant. He was dressed sharply but still casual in a yellow pinstriped shirt and a black tie. The tie boasted a yellow triangular logo with a bright orange ‘S’ embroidered into it. A stack of blood-stained papers were tucked under his arm. Earl absently noticed his shoes and pants were also soaked in the red liquid.

He’s so handsome, Earl thought immediately and he was right. Alarming and nightmarish, of course, but definitely good-looking nonetheless. Despite all the blood and gore, Earl was strangely comforted by the man. He only had time to wonder why before that vaguely familiar name was forming on his tongue again.

“Cecil?”

He hadn’t meant to say it at all but it caught the attention of the strange man anyway. He turned slowly, onyx eyes glinting menacingly, no, cheerfully, with the glorious light of the sun. His smile seemed to grow larger, even more terrifying, as he turned to look, if that were possible. His lips stretched grotesquely over stone sharpened teeth to accommodate it.

“Cecil?” The man repeated in a voice so sweet Earl wondered how it could have possibly come from a man so horrifying. “I don’t know who this ‘Cecil’ person is but my name is Kevin! Maybe I can I help you find someone?”

Earl blinked stupidly for a moment before he found his voice again. “I, uh, no. I’m just lost.”

“Lost? Oh goody!” The man, Kevin, squealed. “I love helping lost people! I love helping all people. Don’t you just love helping?”

“Um…” Earl was floundering. Luckily Kevin seemed to notice this.

“That’s okay, friend.” He beamed. “Why don’t we just start with your name.”

“Earl.” Earl answered quickly. “Earl Harlan, of Night Vale.”

He wasn’t sure why he added that last part. It had just slipped away from him like so many things seemed to do today but it seemed to pique Kevin’s interest.

“Night Vale, you say? I’ve never been but I’m sure it’s lovely.” Kevin’s smile faltered for a moment as if he were rethinking something very important but it was back again before Earl even had time to process its absence. “But then again, Desert Bluffs is a lovely place too. So lovely, in fact, there’s really no reason to ever leave it. Ever. You can never leave.”

Earl frowned but nodded at Kevin anyway. He must be in Desert Bluffs then. He didn’t recognize the name and he was pretty sure he’d never been here before but if this compelling young man told him it was lovely, then by all means, it was lovely. The loveliest place he’d ever been. Earl told Kevin he thought so.

“Isn’t it just?!” Kevin gushed in a way that made Earl wonder if he actually shat rainbows. “I’ll give you the grand tour but first, it looks like you’re injured. Now, how did that happen?”

Earl looked down at his ripped and bloodied uniform and shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t really remember much.”

“Amnesia, then!” Kevin pressed his palms together and rested his cheek on the back of his hands. “How absolutely delightful!”

Earl agreed even though he found exactly nothing about amnesia to be the least bit delightful. He just couldn’t say no to this man. That indescribable sadness ripped through his chest again but this time it seemed more distant. He ignored it easily and smiled back at Kevin. The longer he stood there the better he felt. His wounds didn’t pain him nearly as much as they had and his confusion was fading away. He found, suddenly, that he didn’t really care. Whatever Night Vale was, whoever Cecil was, they didn’t really matter. Here was Kevin. Here was Desert Bluffs. Here the sun was shining both golden and beautiful and here, the air tasted sweet and clean. It felt clean as it filled his lungs again and again. It numbed him like anesthetic from the inside out, taking away all the discomfort as he exhaled. Inhale. Amnesia could be delightful. Exhale. Amnesia is delightful.

Kevin extended a bloodied hand and Earl took it gladly. He was going to like it here.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, questions, concerns? Send me a message at patronsaintofdirtyfilthylovers.tumblr.com


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